


Making Memories

by IrishWitch58



Series: Fortune and Love [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Vacation, french riviera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: I promised at some point an epilogue to Fortune and Love, one of my first 00Q stories. This is the dirty weekend Bond referenced, although he did manage to stretch it to a full holiday. It's not necessary to read the first story although I think it flows better if you do. If you've never been to Nice, I recommend it, it's lovely. The specific position referenced is also lovely. I also recommend it.





	Making Memories

“You're sure the cats are fine?” Q asked as they finished packing the car. Bond hoisted in the last of the bags and closed the hatch. Q's little Volvo was handy, the gun safe being especially convenient as Bond didn't want to be seen carrying when he was traveling for leisure. 

“The cats will be fine and very spoiled. Gerry is a responsible sitter and they both seemed taken with her. She has the vet number and all the instructions about Nick's food. Relax, Kit. It's a two week holiday, not an Antarctic expedition. You're meant to enjoy it.” 

Q checked his phone one more time and found no alerts from either Gerry or MI6. He determinedly tucked the phone in a pocket and settled in the passenger seat. Bond took his place behind the wheel and leaned over for a kiss. “Everything will be fine, darling. We'll have a pleasant drive, a stay in Nice and plenty of time for ourselves.” He pulled out of the parking space and relaxed into driving as he navigated to the M20 and headed for Dover. Q fidgeted with the radio a bit before finding a station they could both enjoy and then watched the scenery.

At Dover, they made a quick stop for a late breakfast and then pulled onto the ferry. Q seemed happy with the ferry, watching the departure activity with interest. His hand strayed to his pocket a few times but he managed to leave the phone alone. Bond eventually retreated to an odd corner and sent off a text. He returned to the rail where Q was standing, watching the now receding coast. After a few minutes, Q's phone chimed. He checked it and Bond watched the smile brighten his face. He turned the phone so Bond could see the screen. Gerry had sent a picture of Nick and Nora on a sunny window seat. Nick was flat on his side, fluffy tail stretched out behind him and Nora was grooming, nibbling delicately at one dainty paw. “I was being a bit silly, wasn't I?”

James pulled him into a hug, kissing an ear and, predictably, getting a mouthful of windblown hair. “You're allowed to worry a little. Just ask Gerry to send an update picture every once in a while. Think that will help?”

Q nodded and quickly sent off a request and received a reassurance that Gerry would send a picture every morning if he liked, that the cats were quite content and were entertained by the birds in her garden. He settled a lot more after that, taking over the driving for a stretch once they were off the ferry and outside Calais. They were taking a meandering route through France, stopping where they fancied and chatting with the locals. They both spoke decent French although James had the better accent. They spent two days in Paris, at a pension Bond recalled from a mission. They wandered the streets of Montmartre, seeking out tiny cafes filled with students and artists. 

James made sure he was driving when they arrived in Nice. The city was an utterly unique blend of French, Mediterranean, and something wholly itself. He had booked them into the Negresco which lorded over the beach front like a dowager among a flock of débutantes. He loved the place. It was a hotel in the sense of the old world hotel tradition. He had booked a suite facing the ocean and watched Kit's face light up in pure joy as the bellman opened the balcony doors and he looked out on the pebbled beach and the grand sweep of the view down the Promenade de Anglais. He leaned out and watched the sunset gilding the tops of the small waves and the facades of the other hotels. He turned from the window and launched himself at James. In the midst of a frenzy of kisses, James was able to distinguish enough to make out, “I'm so glad we came here. Thank you for convincing me.” He put so much energy into his advance that they both toppled onto the sofa that occupied the living area of the suite. A round of fast and furious seemed in order. After all, Bond did have plans for dinner and after. And Kit's enthusiasm was contagious. They managed to get off without fully getting out of their clothes and then laughed at each other as they had to peel themselves out of clothing that was decidedly unfit to be seen in public. 

After regrettably separate showers, James was already dressed while Kit was vacillating between a suit and a sports jacket. “Either is fine, just pick what's comfortable. We have reservations for eight and I'd like to walk there so we can enjoy the city.” Les Pecheurs, as usual, did not disappoint. Fresh seafood in Nice is ubiquitous but the preparation there was superb. Bond, unsurprisingly, knew the maitre'd and secured a lovely table with a view of the quay and Kit found himself glad they had walked. The walk back would be necessary to settle the meal. They skipped dessert, James assuring Kit he had something in mind as they sauntered along the narrow streets. The stroll was a treat and Kit was happy to stop and investigate the offerings at La Vielle Crepe, accepting James recommendation of the cinnamon ice cream to go with the light and airily perfect crepes.

The walk back to the hotel was leisurely and they pulled each other aside to indulge in kisses in convenient dim corners. Kit became more playful as they went, the wine from dinner and the unfamiliar setting making him a bit giddy. James would be very pleased to drive his lover to distraction tonight although he might have to resort to fairly devious means to do so. In the lift to their suite, Kit made a serious effort to get them thrown out, wrapping himself around James and sucking a bruise onto his neck. James pointedly disentangled himself and cast a predatory look Kit's way that plainly promised mayhem. He didn't wait long. They started in the living room, James pinning Kit to the wall near the door and gentling the eager kisses until they were just breathing each others air and rubbing gently against each other. He was going to make sure this lasted awhile. No hurrying tonight. He contrived to get both Kit's wrists in his left hand and began slipping buttons and fastenings loose. Kit struggled a bit but relaxed as James settled little kisses and nips on the skin he was baring. “You've been a bit of a tease tonight, love,” James muttered in a low growl he knew would make Kit that much more excited. It worked. Kit wriggled and then froze when James got a firm grip on the hardening flesh in Kit's briefs. He licked his lips and stared at James, mouth slightly open and eyes darkened. James loosed his grip on Kit's wrists, plucked the glasses off and moved them in slow steps to the bedroom. 

He gave a gentle push and Kit sprawled over the bed, obligingly left turned down by the hotel staff. “Why am I the only one naked?” Kit complained with an utterly unconvincing glare. 

“You're still wearing pants,” James observed mildly. “But I do take your point. Perhaps you'd like me to take mine off?” He stood next to the bed and cocked a hip in approved stripper fashion and began to slide out of his clothes keeping his eyes fixed on Kit's face watching the desire grow. Kit had slid the pants off and was stroking his cock, not more than a light tease. James smiled to see he had gotten the point of slowing down and continued his own gradual reveal. He was hard as well, and bound and determined to drive Kit completely out of his mind before he gave in to the demands of his own body. When he climbed onto the bed and over his lover, their erections brushed and Kit thrust up trying for more friction. James rolled to his side and in short order had things arranged exactly as he had envisioned. He had his left arm under Kit's waist, hand grasping Kit's left elbow. Kit's right arm was under James' body. He could bend it up a bit but he couldn't reach anything he wanted to touch. To complete the trap, James had thrown his right leg in between Kit's, trapping the right leg and shoving the left out of the way. Kit took a few seconds to register the predicament. 

“Noooo,” he wailed. “I can't touch you.” 

“That was rather the goal. If you really hate it I can let you go but I rather fancy the opportunity to play.” He smiled the particular smile he reserved for Kit. The one that conveyed everything he often couldn't say. 

Instead of a renewed complaint, Kit just asked quietly, “Kiss me?”

James was happy to oblige, a slow exploration of familiar territory. Their tongues traced over teeth and twined against and around each other, wet and hot and welcome. James continued the kisses down the graceful arch of Kit's throat and allowed his right hand to wander, tracing over pale skin and watching the lovely blush pink colour come up all over. He teased the already peaked nipples, pinching them a little to hear Kit gasp and then sucking at them. The muscles in the taut body hummed with the tension he was creating and Kit was alternating moans with repetitions of “James, please.” He paused to stroke the scarring low on Kit's right side. He regretted the damage but was more than grateful he'd gotten the chance to be here. He trailed his fingers lower, alternating gentle strokes with random scratches watching as the elegant cock nested in dark curls jumped and twitched and leaked it's arousal. He teased out more of the fluid onto his fingers and brought them further back, circling and teasing at Kit's opening. Precome wouldn't be enough for fucking but for this it was sufficient. Kit's eyes opened wide and he tried to trap the teasing digit but James just continued the slow circling and kissed him again. He withdrew his hand and Kit gave a desperate cry, only subsiding when he saw what James was doing. He had left lube in the shaving kit in easy reach at the bedside and he warmed a little on his hand before returning the exploring finger, a little deeper this time with Kit moaning and twisting the little he was able, trying to get James to give him more. Eventually he did, sliding in a second finger, circling and stroking with patience and persistance, crooking his fingers forward and rubbing carefully as his normally verbally adept love descended into unintelligible murmurs and came in sudden bursts that coated both of them and left Kit limp in James' arms, eyes half closed and a dreamy smile on his lips. James eased his right hand out and wrapped his own neglected cock in a lubed fist and stroked leisurely as Kit watched dazedly. Kit was soon decorated with a doubled amount of come, coating his chest and abdomen. James snagged the kleenex box closer. Thank heavens for full service hotels, and mopped up the worst of the mess before heading to the bath to retrieve a damp towel which made Kit giggle and thrash as he complained he was too ticklish. 

James settled back into the bed and was immediately wrapped in lithe arms and legs. “That was amazing,” Kit whispered, laying sleepy kisses on James' face and neck. 

“Are you happy?” James asked, returning the kisses, a prelude to sleep that happened almost every night they could spend together. 

“Very. We should do this again.” Kit hooked a foot in the duvet and yanked it up, eventually drawing it over their shoulders. 

“Which, dinner, sex or just Nice?” James teased.

“All three, but especially the sex.” Kit looked at him seriously. “I'd settle for fish and chips in Brighton if it was with you. Now get some sleep.”

“Why? Have I tired you out?” James asked chuckling.

“No. But you'll need the energy as I intend to fuck and be fucked over every surface in this very lovely hotel suite before we leave.”

Kit quickly fell asleep, breathing slowed and body relaxed. James did the same a bit later reflecting that that was perhaps the best offer he'd had in his varied and misspent life. The fresh Mediterranean breezes stirred the curtains and they both slept.


End file.
